


Mark Me

by Entonnoir



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, DomLavellan, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light BDSM, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Smut, Solavellan, sub!solas, subSolas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3679434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entonnoir/pseuds/Entonnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trearia Lavellan is frustrated with Solas's apparent distance and decides to take matters into her own hands. While doing so, she discovers something unusual about her mark.</p><p>This story follows the general plot of Inquisition, and thus will contain spoilers (and angst).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frustration

Trearia was frustrated. No other word for it. Ever since Solas had kissed her on her balcony and declared his love for her, she had been waiting. Patience was never her strong point, but she believed he was worth waiting for. But he had barely spoken to her since then, limiting conversation only to topics relevant to their mission. Had she done something wrong? He called her “vhenan” and “my heart”, but then would suddenly greet her with a curt “hello”, as if they had never kissed. She was frustrated and desperate to see once again the passion he had shown her in the Fade and in that brief moment on her balcony.

So, she had sent him on his own quest to investigate the elven artifacts further, and they had led her here, to the Hinterlands, to close another blighted rift and kill more cursed demons. And now, they made camp, and still he acted distant. Her only consolation was that he would be sharing his tent with Dorian tonight, who seemed to be wary of Iron Bull's intentions; while Iron Bull would be sharing his tent likely with Scout Harding, or perhaps any of the other Inquisition soldiers or scouts in the area (“horny” seemed an apt description for Bull in every respect).

As the Inquisitor, she had the “luxury” of her own tent. Fen'Harel take him, she was tired of this. She was tired of his distance, tired of the excitement she felt each and every time she saw him—excitement that never was fulfilled, that left her alone in her bed every blighted night.

She needed release. Curse him and his distance, tonight one way or another, she would fall asleep satisfied. She undressed and pulled the covers over her. The more she thought about Solas—the graceful way he walked, that smile he sometimes let slip, the ways his whole body came alive when they were trapped in the Fade together at Adamant fortress, his voice when he finally let her in and told her how much she meant to him, the way his mouth had claimed her as his and his thigh had rubbed against her—the more her mark began to glow. Her right hand traced along the curves of her labia as she remembered what it felt like to have him pushed against her. Suddenly, her mark shot out an arc of magic that sparked her inner thigh... The sensation rippled through her, pain became mixed with pleasure. As her thoughts lingered on the pressure of his lips and the force with which he had nearly knocked her over, the mark became more active. Eager for release, for any release, she ran her left hand over her clit. As the arc of magic flashed from her palm to her clit, she cried out.

And it was at that moment that her tent flap opened.

“Vhenan? Are you...” His voice faltered for a moment as he took in the disheveled covers and location of her hands.

“... well?” The tent flap sprang shut behind him as he knelt beside her. Her mark instantly reacted to his presence and a pulse of magic hit his out-stretched arm, a reflection perhaps of her desire for him.

“Solas! I... I didn't...” She couldn't help but reach for him. Gently, he pushed her away and began to rise.

“Vhenan, I'm not sure this is wise...”

She grabbed his hand and a growl escaped her throat as she said, “Wisdom be damned, Solas! I have waited and waited for you to come to me. Just stay. Please?”

She sat up without bothering to cover her bare breasts, upon which the cold night air caressed like a negligent lover. Her mark pulsed, an outward reflection of her need, and stray arcs of magic touched down on her nipples and arced out to alight on Solas's hands. “What are you doing?”

“Seducing you?” She reached for his face and pulled his lips to hers. He returned her kiss for a moment, and then pulled back.

“No, vhenan, with the mark. Perhaps we should exercise some caution until we understand what is happening?”

As her irritation increased, so too did the sparks flying from the mark. She had been at the precipice of release and to be interrupted by the man she so desired and to have that release so abruptly prevented was maddening.

“Solas, so help me, if you don't take me, I may just burn this tent to the ground.”

As if to prove her point, a burst of magic pulsed from the mark came dangerously close to setting her blanket on fire.

“I still do not believe this to be wise, vhe—”

She interrupted his words with a forceful kiss, pushing her body against his frantically. As their kiss deepened and their mouths parted, their tongues curling around each other's, the mark began to pulse pleasantly. His hands were warm on her back, his fingers gently pressing into her bare skin. When the mark began to pulsate magic into Solas's back, he grunted with pleasure and lowered himself on top of her. Still fully clothed, she felt the pressure of his erection through his clothing and rubbed her groin against it. He groaned in response and moved his lips to her neck, sucking and flicking his tongue as his lips made a slow trail downward.

This was pleasant, but wholly unnecessary. She was ready, and he seemed to be as well. She pulled at his shirt, and he obliged, lifting his arms so it could be removed. His wolf-bone necklace remained the only covering for his chest. She trailed her left hand along his neck, static arcing from her mark to his skin. With each burst, a small grunt escaped Solas's lips. Though her needs were yet unmet, she couldn't help but grin in anticipation. If her mark had such an effect on these body parts, what could happen if she were to touch that part of him currently pushing against the seams of his pants?

A polite cough suddenly came from outside, and then came Dorian's voice.

“Is all well in there? Solas? Trearia? No demons about to swarm us or rifts opening?”

“No rifts opening, Dorian, we are well, thank you. Now leave us be.” Solas's voice was curt, and Trearia broke out in a devilish grin.

“Well, then, if you're sure...” Dorian's voice trailed off as his footsteps receded back to his tent.

“Now, Solas, how about we get that rift opened?”

“Is that an order, Inquisitor?”

“Yes. Yes, that's an order. But first,” she paused and indicated his pants. “It wouldn't do for the Inquisitor to be the only one unclothed, would it? Hardly becoming her position.”

A low chuckle vibrated from his throat as he nodded, and Trearia sat up to watch. Solas stood, graceful as always, and began to turn away from her, intentionally teasing her. She couldn't help herself as she stood up and curled her left arm around him, her mark sending small pulses down his stomach. He groaned, louder than she expected, and turned to face her, his erect penis freed from his unbuttoned pants which now hung around his knees.  
She smirked wickedly and pulled away from him.

“No, vhenan, I said unclothed, and I meant all the way.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” He obeyed, and bent down to remove his pants from his legs. His cheeks reflected the green glow from her mark, firm and toned and so inviting.

“Does this please you, Inquisitor?” He whispered, as he turned to face her. He stood before her, his elven glory proud and ready to serve her. His chest heaved in anticipation, his ears quivered with desire, his lips parted invitingly, and his eyes were heavy with need for her.

She came to him then and pushed her body against his. She raised her lips to his ears and whispered, “Solas, you do more than please me. You honor me. You inspire me. You've made my world more interesting and vibrant.”

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. You've changed me as well. In all of Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade.”

He wrapped his arms around her then and kissed her lips with such hunger that her body arched back. She clung to him in an attempt to avoid falling, and then thought better of it... She pulled him down with her; and they collapsed onto her bed roll, their legs tangled together, their lips opening and closing together. His necklace thumped against her chest as his hands explored her hips, approaching but never touching that part of her yearning so much to be filled.

She reached out and touched his necklace. Curious, she asked, “Solas... Might you take this off? All else has been removed, why not this?”

She didn't miss the aversion in his eyes, when for one moment he seemed to withdraw from her completely.

“No. It remains.”

Understanding that this was important to him, though she could not know why, she accepted his answer and reached for him again.

Her marked hand trailed a passage down his spine as he continued to kiss her. She felt the pressure from his groin against hers and opened her legs for him.

Noticing his hesitation, she touched his pride with her marked hand. A pulse from the mark made it quiver, and he groaned, his reserve finally gone. His lips nipped her ear and he growled, “Vhenan, you have made me undone. I hope you are ready for what is to come.”

She couldn't help but laugh in reply. “Oh, Solas, I've been ready. Has that not been made clear to you yet?”

His proud member pushed into her then, and she yelped with relief. His lips found her neck, covering it with nips and bites as he began thrusting into her. The mark began pulsating in time with his thrusts, slowly at first and then with increased urgency. Pleasure sprang from her depths, and with each pulse from the mark, pain made the pleasure deeper. She began to cry out as her need was met. He matched her cries, smothering his groans into her neck as his nips became bites. Waves of pleasure coursed through her as she clutched his back with both hands. When the mark touched his bare skin, he could no longer contain himself. The moan that came from his lips was primal, like a wolf's howl. He came within her then, shuddering in relief.

Finally satisfied, the mark became dormant. She held him close to her, feeling his weight on top of her, the strange pendant pushing into her breasts.  
After a few moments, he began to push away from her.

“We shouldn't have done this, Trearia. This was impulsive and ill-considered.”

She looked at him in disbelief.

“Don't you dare, Solas. We care for each other. And what just happened was neither impulsive nor ill-considered. What we have means the world to me, vhenan.”

A moment of sadness came into his eyes then before he sighed and replied, “Perhaps you're right. What we have is real. You change everything, my heart.”

He laid down beside her, and she curled into his arms, complete and blissfully satiated. And in that way, they fell asleep, her mark quiet at last.


	2. Bound Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rope, pranks, and exploration...

She was awakened in the early hours of the morning by a cool draft of air as her tent flap opened. Momentarily alarmed, she reached for her staff and bolted up-right.

“Vhenan, it is only I,” Solas said as the tent flap closed behind him.

“What were you doing, Solas?”

“I thought it may be best we keep our... affections to ourselves for the moment and was going to return to my tent. However,” a disgruntled snort escaped his nose, “when I entered the tent, I found Iron Bull and Dorian... entangled with each other, shall we say.”

She began to laugh merrily, only encouraged by the look of annoyance on Solas's face.

“Ah! Dorian finally succumbed to Iron Bull's charms! I was wondering how much longer he'd be able to hold out.”

“Yes. I thought it best to return here.”

“Oh, you 'thought it best'? Such punishment for you, I'm sure.” A mischievous grin began to part her lips. “And once again, you are fully clothed while your Inquisitor is in a state of undress. Tsk tsk, what would people say?”

She stood up to emphasize her point. A small smirk appeared on his glorious lips as his eyes took in her state of undress.

“Vhenan, a moment, please. Before we commence what would surely be an enjoyable dalliance in carnal pleasure, I must insist we discuss what occurred with your mark last night. Have you felt the mark control or change you in any way?”

“Solas, if you're asking if I would desire you without this mark on my hand, yes, I would. I believe last night, the mark reflected my frustrations and was not the cause of them.”

“But do you feel yourself changed in any way?”

She looked at him with mild irritation.

“Of course. The events of the past months have changed everyone. Do I feel that the mark controls me? No. Has having the mark changed me? Yes.”

“I mean, your spirit, your essence. Has the mark changed that?” His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at her, his eyes searching her face with a piercing gaze.

“Not that I'm aware of. Why do you ask?”

“You show a wisdom I've not seen since... my deepest journeys within the Fade.”

“What does this mean, Solas?”

“It means I have not yet followed my Inquisitor's command.” He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a gentle kiss.

“No, you have not. And she is most displeased.”

Before Solas could begin to obey her command, they heard a commotion coming from within Dorian and Iron Bull's tent, what sounded like shouts of annoyance.

A devilish grin came over Solas's face as he leaned close to her ears and whispered, “There was rope in their tent. I may have made use of it.”

She scoffed and said, “You didn't!”

“I did indeed. As much as I would like to follow my Inquisitor's command, perhaps she would enjoy seeing this spectacle instead? I would promise to obey my Inquisitor at a later time, of course.”

She hastily dressed, grabbed her staff, and left the tent in a rush, Solas following behind her.

There were shouts and annoyed grunts coming from Dorian's tent as they approached.

Trearia cleared her throat loudly.

“Is all well in there? Dorian? Iron Bull? Do you require any assistance?”

Dorian's smooth voice wafted out of the tent. “We seem to be a bit... tied up, Inquisitor.”

Iron Bull chimed in, “And not in a useful way.”

She looked at Solas in amusement. His eyes were crinkled and his lips were fighting to contain laughter.

“May I come in to assist you, then?”

“That depends, Boss. Were you the one who tied us up like this?” Iron Bull's voice demanded gruffly.

“No, it appears we have a trickster within our midst.”

Dorian answered, “Yes, yes, Trearia, do come in.”

Solas chose that moment to join the conversation. “Do you require my assistance as well?”

“You damned elf. It was you, wasn't it? When I get out of this rope, I'm going to...” Iron Bull's voice was abruptly cut off as Trearia entered their tent.

Both Iron Bull and Dorian lay on the bedroll, completely naked except for the blanket wedged between them and wrapped around their groins. They were tied together with the rope Solas had mentioned, Iron Bull's arms wrapped around Dorian's body, hands bound firmly in front of his new lover's chest. The blanket prevented them from receiving any enjoyment from their entanglement, and Iron Bull could not break free of his bonds without potentially injuring Dorian. Yet even with the blanket providing them some modesty, it was impossible to miss the erections protruding from each of them.

Before Trearia could begin to figure out how best to free them in the least humiliating way possible, Solas sauntered in.

“Now, gentlemen, I have a proposal. I will free you from your bondage, if you will grant the Inquisitor and I some extra time to rise this morning and if you will not speak of what you may hear to anyone else. If you do so, we—” he paused and glanced at her. She nodded in agreement. “We will also not speak of this to anyone else, either. And, of course, we will leave the rope.”

“That is acceptable to me,” Dorian said.

“Yes, me, too,” Iron Bull answered.

Solas bent down and quickly freed them from the bondage he had inflicted, expertly casting small bursts of flame to cut through the rope. Once Solas had finished freeing them, he and Trearia left the tent and returned to hers.

“As promised, my Inquisitor,” Solas said, as he began to remove his clothes. She stood watching him. His skin shivered from the chill of early morning and the freckles dotting his face appeared to dazzle in the early morning light. Once he was unclothed, he looked at her, his arousal glorious.

She approached him and kissed him teasingly, rubbing herself against his hard length.

“Inquisitor... Will you be joining me?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Perhaps, but not yet. I want to see what this mark can do to you first.”

Though the mark was pulsating gently and not wildly as it had the night before, she noticed an immediate reaction in his body as she brought it close to his skin: his muscles tensed from pleasure, small drops appearing at his pride's head. He closed his eyes, a moan parted his lips. She ran her marked hand down the length of his back and his entire body quivered.

“Can you stand it, Solas?”

He groaned and said, “For you, Inquisitor, anything.”

She knelt before him and lowered her mark within inches of his pride. Bringing her mouth to its hardness, she whispered, “And what about now, vhenan?” Before he could answer, she took his length into her mouth, sucking and rolling her tongue around it. Her marked hand touched his eggs gently and he began to shake.

She abruptly removed her wetness from him before his pleasure could be fulfilled.

“My turn now,” she said, removing her garments one by one. She laid down on the bedroll and opened her legs. Eagerly he knelt before her, prepared to enter her as he had just hours ago.

“Use your tongue.”

He lowered his head to her wetness, lapping with his glorious tongue and nipping at her mound with his sharp teeth. Her marked hand rested on his back, pulses occurring with each orgasm. When she was sure he could take no more, she said, “Enough. Take me now, Solas... And make sure everyone can hear us.”

He entered her then, and they spent the morning in gentle, slow love-making, affection and appreciation replacing the feral need of their first time. When they were both spent, they remained wrapped around each other for a few more blissful moments.

And by the time the sun had risen, everyone in camp knew of the two new couples.

 


	3. Solace in Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Solas do after they return to Skyhold? Chapter from Solas's POV.

Back in Skyhold, Solas pondered the change in his affairs. He hadn't intended to begin a relationship with Trearia, much less a sexual one, but there was no denying the pleasure and comfort it brought to both of them. For now, he would continue it. And, if he were wholly honest with himself, the mark had an effect on him that was unexpected. When she touched him with the mark, he felt his old power return to him. For those moments, it was as if he were in Arlathan once again, at the peak of his power. It made him drunk with desire, both for her and for the life he used to lead. It made him want to be reckless in a way he hadn't been since his youth. His mouth twitched with mirth each time he saw Iron Bull and Dorian. That had been an enjoyable diversion, almost as enjoyable as the shared moments he and Trearia had had in that tent. Thinking of her now, he felt his glory rise, and wondered if she would soon be finished with her daily affairs.

He went to her each night now. She had ordered him to do so, and he would not disobey her. He suspected she insisted on their daily love-making not only out of desire, but also out of fear that she could lose control of the mark again. He shared her fear, even more so because he knew there was a chance he would have to leave her.

 _If the orb is not recovered whole_... he let his thoughts drift to the dark places, to what he would have to do then. He would have to leave her, he knew that. And with the recent events in the Temple of Mythal—while he did not agree with her decision to drink from the Well of Sorrows, he understood why she had done so as a follower of Mythal—and the approach of the final confrontation with Corypheus, there was an urgency to his concerns.

Which was why he was standing in front of Iron Bull and Dorian right now, in the seclusion of Iron Bull's unexpectedly tidy bedroom. With the notable exception of the bed, which looked recently used.

He cleared his throat and began what was sure to be an awkward conversation.

“You two are Trearia's dearest friends, am I correct? You care deeply for her?”

“What kind of a question is that, Solas? Of course we care deeply for her!” Dorian's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

“And you as well, Iron Bull?” The qunari nodded.

“Am I right in understanding that the qunari culture has an understanding of physical intimacy as primarily a physical need rather than an emotional one?” Solas continued.

“Look here, Baldy, if you're insinuating I'm using Dorian only for sex, you're wrong. Not that it's any of your business, but we happen to enjoy each other's company.” Iron Bull pulled Dorian close, and Dorian gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Why all these questions?” Dorian asked.

“If Trearia needed the Iron Bull for sex, would that be agreeable to you two?”

They stared at him in shock, jaws slack and eyes stunned.

Iron Bull coughed and said, “I thought you had that well in hand?”

“The mark she carries reflects her needs. If her needs are unmet—if I were... injured or otherwise unavailable—she could harm both herself and others. Under those circumstances, would you be willing to meet her needs, Iron Bull?”

Iron Bull and Dorian glanced at each other, an entire conversation occurring between their eyes.

“To prevent her from harming herself and others? Yes.”

“And you, Dorian, would you be willing to do what you could to prevent her from injuring Iron Bull? Would you be willing to cast a barrier over Iron Bull to prevent him from being injured... while Iron Bull was fulfilling her needs?”

Dorian's face screwed in distaste.

“I wouldn't enjoy watching such a display, but yes. If necessary, I would.”

“One final request. I have cast spells on the furniture in my rotunda to make them resistant from any stray sparks from the mark. I would suggest, if this is to happen, that it happen there.”

“This is an awful lot of forethought for a mere possibility, Baldy. Do you plan on leaving her?” Iron Bull asked as he frowned at Solas.

“No. I hope to stay. But if the unthinkable occurs, I would know she is safe and cared for.”

Iron Bull's eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, but he did not respond.

Solas continued, “Then it is settled. Thank you. Please do not speak of this to Trearia.”

“Of course,” Dorian replied. Iron Bull nodded in agreement.

Solas left them, relieved.

That night, after he had met her need (and she, his), he told her of a journey they would soon take to Crestwood. He had made all the arrangements with her advisers. The Inquisition could spare her for a few days as everyone prepared for the final confrontation with Corypheus. She had been curious, as always, but also respectful of his need for secrecy. She didn't push him when he told her he knew something “because of his journeys through the Fade”, even when he knew she doubted the explanation. She trusted him. He hoped he could be worthy of her trust, but deep down, he worried that she deserved better.

When they arrived at the glen in Crestwood a few days later, he knew he could not tell her the truth she deserved. Instead, he decided to show her who he was. No elf in this age knew the spell he used to remove her vallaslin. No other elf in this age could know what it meant, and he knew she understood the implications of his actions. And when he held her close, his heart broke at the chance that this would have to end.

The end was approaching. Would he ask her to follow him? Could he ask such of her?

He pushed the thoughts away and allowed himself to be made drunk by the pulses of the mark and the love over-flowing from her being into his.

Whatever would come, he knew this: that he loved her and that she had changed everything for him.

 


	4. Together We Rise and Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter takes place post-end-game.

All of Thedas was celebrating. Trearia gazed over her balcony, wishing she could have just an inclination of where he could be and why he had had to leave her. She knew more about who he was than she had let on. She knew he had more in common with the elves they had found in the Temple of Mythal than he shared with any other elves of this age. She even suspected that he was ancient, that he had used an uthenera and had woken only recently from the deep sleep.

None of this comforted her in any way. If he was on a quest, if he was working to restore their people, why had he not asked her to join him?

She left her quarters, unable to sleep where they had spent so many nights together. She paced the grounds of Skyhold, walking until exhaustion began to overcome her. She ended up in the tavern and resolved to drink until she passed out.

Her plan worked.

The morning found the Inquisitor on the floor of the bar, with a concerned Iron Bull and Dorian peering down at her.

“Boss? Are you okay?”

She shook her pounding head, unable to speak. Her mark began to pulsate wildly.

“Boss, can you stand?”

Trearia attempted to rise and began to fall as Iron Bull's firm hands caught her in his grip instead. She did not see the look that passed between him and Dorian as Iron Bull lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the tavern. The sun was too bright for her eyes as they crossed the courtyard, and she kept her eyes closed tightly. She didn't see Dorian rush ahead or hear the flurry of footsteps as the entire rotunda was emptied.

Her head pounded, but the pain was hardly noticeable compared to the ache in her chest. She clung to Iron Bull tightly, no longer caring who might see her like this. As they entered the bottom of the rotunda, where Solas used to spend so much of his time, she let her eyes open for a moment, hoping he would be there.

The room was empty. His desk had been emptied. All that remained was barren, like her. Barren and unwanted.

Left behind.

Her face became wet; when had she started crying? She began to moan. And then, she began to scream.

And as she screamed, the mark raged, sending out sparks that threatened to bring down all of Skyhold if not soon contained.

Iron Bull began to grunt as the sparks touched down on his rough skin.

“Trearia, your mark is getting out of control. Can you control it?” Dorian's voice cut into her pain, like a caress of silk upon an open wound.

She wanted to respond, but all she could do was scream.

“Boss, he came to us and told us what to do if your mark got out of control like this. But,” Iron Bull coughed, “I won't do it unless you say it's okay.”

Trearia managed to stop screaming for a moment. Solas had spoken to Dorian and Iron Bull about this? Had he known the whole time that he would be leaving her?

She tried to find her voice and was grateful then for the calming presence of her truest friends. Her mark still sparked wildly, but she forced her eyes opened and looked up into Iron Bull's face.

“What did he tell you to do?”

“He, uh, told me to give you whatever your body needed to calm the mark.” She was surprised to see Iron Bull's embarrassment given his past sexual history with what seemed like most of the available men and women in the Inquisition.

“Sex, Trearia. He told the Iron Bull to have sex with you to calm the mark.” Dorian's voice sounded slightly acidic, but she understood why. Even with her thoughts muddled from the hangover and heartache, she knew what it would do to Dorian to watch Iron Bull fuck her.

But in that moment, she was too overwhelmed with despair and grief to be able to stop it. His arms felt good as they held her. He wasn't Solas, he could never be, but she knew that her mark threatened all of Skyhold if she could not regain control of it. Sex could do that, she knew. Sex could distract her from her grief long enough to regain control of her emotions.

She pushed her lips roughly against his, forcing herself to pay attention to her body and his. She would do whatever she could to quiet the thoughts in her mind.

A gentle caress of magic washed over them as she felt Dorian's barrier spell touch down upon their bodies.

The Bull carried her to the sofa—the one she had so often seen Solas— _no, don't think of him, think of this_ —

She pushed her tongue into his mouth desperately and he responded with his tongue pushing back against hers. Her mark pulsated against his skin and he cried out in pain. _Why is it so different with him?_ Her mind wondered for one moment before his hands were all over her, scratching trails of painful ecstasy up and down her spine.

She pushed apart from him then to tear off her clothes, and he did the same. Naked together, she saw his arousal. Was she ready for him? She didn't care. It had to be done.

Another caress of magic touched down upon Iron Bull as Dorian's first barrier spell had dissipated. Even with the help of the barrier spell, the back of her mind saw the burns along Iron Bull's back. This needed to end soon.

She straddled his lap and lowered herself onto him. The pain as his cock entered her unprepared caught her breath. But it was working. The mark's pulses were weakening. The Bull waited a moment as her space opened to him and then they began to move together.

It was desperate, it was urgent, and it felt... Well, it felt good. Not great, but good enough. Within moments, waves of pleasure began to caress her.

The mark began to quiet.

“Boss, are we good?” Iron Bull grunted, clearly nearing his end as well.

“Yes!”

His cock shuddered within her then as one final climax rolled inside her.

The mark lay quiet and calm.

She stood up, pulling herself off of Iron Bull's lap. Her clothes lay on the floor; she bent down quickly and dressed. He did the same. Dorian stood nearby, quiet and pensive but still there.

Once dressed, Iron Bull pulled her into a friendly hug.

“Anytime you need us, Boss.”

Dorian wrapped his arms around them and said, “Yes, dear, any time you need us. We're here for you.”

Her heart still ached, but the pain diminished as she felt the love of her friends surrounding her. All she could say was, “Thank you.”


End file.
